


City of Shadows

by BurningMartian



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Future Fic, Gen, Modern Thedas, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-24 00:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14944334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningMartian/pseuds/BurningMartian
Summary: A conspiracy threatens to unravel the reality of Denerim city, no, all of Thedas and consume it whole.





	1. Chapter 1

Alistair Theirin tugged on his clothes hastily as he made his way downwards to grab his breakfast. Captain Loghain had specifically requested his presence early at the office today. He hailed a cab and left.

Another string of disappearances without any specific pattern. No clues left behind. No traces on any surveillance devices. It was a bit too unnerving. No results were to be had that day. Loghain's temper too, had begun to fray. Alistair called it a day. He made a trip to the forensics lab with what evidence they had gathered, which was next to nothing. He rarely relished these visits. The woman in charge of the Lab, Morrigan, was an unpleasant, sarcastic woman. It was a shame. She was not hard on the eyes. He might have even considered asking her out, if only she were not so utterly abrasive.

“Productive day at work, I take it?”

And there it was. The acidic sarcasm. “As good as any other.” Alistair replied tartly, plonking down the evidence bag with perhaps a little more force than he had meant to.

She merely scoffed at the display. Then she gathered up the woman's file to sift through the records of the online database the Denerim PD kept on Cloud storage.

“Find a pattern yet?” Alistair ventured.

The woman merely shook her head and made a dismissive gesture without so much as glancing in his direction. The conversation was over. Alistair made an exasperated noise and walked out. He did not notice the woman’s lips quirk upwards at the corners.

The sun had begun to set. Alistair remembered that he had not anything to be prepared as his dinner that night. The joys of bachelor life, such as they were. So, it was to be takeout again.

Then he remembered. His neighbour next door. Felix Amell. He enjoyed his company well enough, and the man’s cooking was to die for. Felix was a man of many talents. He led the relaxed life of a writer. Alistair did not know how much the average novelist made off royalties, but Felix seemed to make ends meet easily enough. His was an inconspicuous life. Also, he could talk at length about the most fascinating subjects. Alistair decided to try his luck there for the night.

He was welcomed inside with open arms. Felix was always unfailingly hospitable. Perfectly sociable. The neighbourhood loved him. Alistair was made to feel welcome here by him when he had first transferred from Redcliffe to Denerim.

“Baked leg of lamb with olive oil. I'm sure this will uplift your mood, that seems to be considerably doused on this fine day.”

Alistair shrugged off his jacket. “Unproductive day at work and unhelpful colleagues. Same old, same old.”

Felix laughed. “Well, I'm glad coming here helps you unwind, at least.” He set the table for the two of them as Alistair washed up. The evening news played on lowered volumes in the background.

The lamb was delicious, as always. Painfully perfect, much like Felix's own apartment. Alistair wondered how a fellow bachelor kept his apartment in such tidy upkeep. He ought to be getting tips.

The evening news had truly devolved into sensationalist ramblings. The anchor was going off about some crop circles in the farms on the outskirts of Denerim. “Occultist nonsense.” Alistair then noticed Felix's expression, his rapt attention towards the circle on the screen. “Don't tell me you're taken in by these childish rural pranks.”

Felix turned his gaze back to Alistair, something stirring below his eyes. “There is art to be found everywhere, Alistair. Even childish pranks.”

Alistair had finished his meal and washed up. He inspected himself in the mirror, then left. He did not notice his reflection had never left the pane.

He had a fitful sleep that night, as if something in the city's very air intended to choke the life out of him. Rubbing his scalp, he looked to the clock. 2.30 AM. Great. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight, it seems. He pulled on a tracksuit to get some coffee.

The very air around the parking area in the rear of the building seemed to crackle with ominous energy. The lamps illuminating the area seemed to dim, flicker, fade. Alistair's breath began to fog in front of him.

A green crack appeared in front of him as reality itself appeared to shatter. He could not tear his eyes away from the bright green light, as it manifested to a gigantic horned figure, a massive purple horned humanoid with sparks covering it's flesh in a fell aura roared in his face. The car alarms went off and the lanterns shattered. Alistair was stricken by a primal terror. He had never seen the likes of this beast before.

The monster reached out with one enormous hand to crush Alistair within it's grip. He moved out of the way and darted between it's legs to escape. It whirled around with deceptive speed for a monster it's size, a boulder sized fist reducing some poor sod’s Fiat to a crumpled heap as Alistair leapt out of the way once more. He had never bemoaned leaving his revolver behind as he did now. Although he was not sure exactly what a revolver would do against this monstrosity.

The clouds swirled, dark, overhead, as the scent of ozone filled the air. A flash, accompanied by a deafening thunderclap seconds later, as Alistair was hurled back against the chain-link fence. His senses were momentarily scattered before he regained their use.

Felix Amell, as he had never seen him before, copper hair unruly in the breeze, instead of bound in the modest ponytail he usually wore, standing over the fried corpse of the monster. Alistair almost didn't recognize him for a moment, but he never mistook one face for another. Part of being a detective.

“Felix?”

That was a mistake. The other man whirled around, surprised rage flashing in his eyes. He clearly hadn’t expected anyone to be there. He pointed a palm at Alistair, and the next thing he knew was a flash of blinding light, then pain, then all-consuming darkness.

He was floating….

Floating in the dark…

A warmth tugging at his soul…

“Where.. am I?”

“Dead.” A feminine voice, that he should recognize. “Or at least, you should be.”

“Are you… an angel then? Come to… take me to the Maker?..”

Morrigan's face shimmered into visibility. She laughed. “Close enough.”

Alistair groaned. “Not you again..”

“Tsk tsk. So much for gratitude. Considering you would be a molten puddle in some desolate parking lot without my interference, tis a surprising lack of gratitude you display. Although I suppose it shouldn't surprise me.”

“What… happened to me?..”

“You were blown apart by a man you know well. He will have the answers you need. Go to him.” She placed a finger on his wrist, and he jerked back as he felt a crackle of static energy on his skin. “And remember, reflect well on what you learn.”

And saying so, the woman dissolved into dark fog and disappeared. Alistair groaned and rose. He was back in his apartment. How had he gotten here? Morrigan had brought him, of course. But how had she gotten here? Alistair shook his head, which was already starting to hurt.

He examined his wrist where he had felt the zap. A barcode imprinted over his skin. Brilliant. What was even going on. He threw open a drawer, and jammed his revolver into his trousers after downing some aspirin. He would get his answers, one way or the other.

It was the middle of the next night. Apparently Alistair had nearly lost 24 hours of time. He rushed to Felix's apartment. He forced the door open.

It was uncannily clean, as always. Alistair wondered why he had never noticed before. There were no prints to be found on any surface. No photo frames. No documents of any sort, barring newspapers. No phones.

He slammed a fist against the wall. Writer indeed.

What was it Morrigan had said? Reflect on what you find. Alistair rushed to the mirror in the bathroom. He had always felt something was off about it. Now he would find out exactly what.

The pane seemed to ripple as his fingers approached, as would the surface of a glade. He touched the surface, cold glass. Then he felt himself falling…

Falling forward…

And there he was. A room lit in a neon green glow in the darkness. Numerous computers, varying in size, their monitors blinking with green lines of code. He could discern the silhouette of Felix Amell in the poor light, his back to him. He had not noticed his entrance.

The barcode on his wrist and burst into sparks, before spurting off his skin and slithering toward one of the computers like some odd centipede. Just when Alistair thought this entire thing couldn't get any worse, all hell broke loose.

Every computer started beeping in tandem. Felix Amell whirled around in shocked fury. It has to be said that Alistair was fairly confident in his reflexes in a fight. But he did not see Felix move as he blurred into existence in front of him and caught him with a straight shot to the kidneys, his body covered in a pale blue aura. He hit the far side of the wall. It hurt, almost like a hammerblow. He felt to his knees.

Felix moved at blurring speeds, fast enough to make it seem like he was at multiple places at once. His fingers danced at blinding speeds over multiple keyboards. But the flashing and beeping wouldn't subside. Ultimately, whatever he was attempting must have failed. The monitors sputtered and burst into sparks. The sparks all began to coalesce and spin at the center of the room, then began crack, green, across reality itself.

Not again.

A stream of… creatures, a few purple giants like the one that had attacked Alistair earlier, some that looked like solidified shadows, some that looked as though they were pure liquid flame.

Felix dug his heels into the floor and pointed his bare palms at the rift. There was a ripple through the air, as some sort of invisible force seemed to push the creatures back. The air was charged with energy. Standing here, Alistair theorized, must be what standing in the eye of a cyclone felt like.

A few of the creatures were mashed into paste by the sheer force Felix had directed at them, only to replaced by more, trying to break their way out of the rift. A voice spoke up in Alistair's brain. It was Felix.

*Get to the phone on your right. Call the first contact! Now!*

Alistair staggered to his feet, hand clapped over his wounded side. He picked up the wafer thin phone and dialled. The phone was obviously connected to the computers. Some that had not torn themselves apart initially flashed, and a feminine voice echoed through the room.

“This is Apotheosis. How may we help you, Lord Amell?”

“We have a situation. An eternity key was unleashed in the core cell. A rift has opened. Needs to be sealed, now!”

“Rift. Affirmative.”

The monitors blinked and began to stream with lines of code. With a last push, Felix pushed the last of the creatures through the rift. The crack in the air began to stitch together, and was shut.

Apparently the problems hadn't evaporated entirely. Bubbles of purple energy had begun to coalesce in front of the largest monitor at the head of the room, what Alistair guessed was the main terminal. The bubbles took on the shape of… the skull of a dragon, purple, and horrible to behold.

“Rrrr.. the blight comes, mage… You are powerless to stop it… soon you will meet your end, me!” The apparition spoke.

Felix merely strode forward and put his hand.on the dragon’s snout. “Rush not to meet your death, dragon. I will end you soon enough. Until then…. Sit tight.” He tightened his grip, and the apparition disappeared like a popped bubble.

Then Felix took a breath, then turned to Alistair. He had already pulled his revolver on him. “What is going on here? Start talking!”

Felix blinked, and the metal of the weapon turned red hot in Alistair's hand. He dropped it with a roar. It turned to a molten mess at his feet.

“You want answers do you? Very well. Listen closely.”

“Did you know magic exists? That was a rhetorical question. Magic not only exists, but is one of the fundamental forces of the world around us. Many laws of physics may be found to be flawed once magic is added into the mix.”

“Once, magic existed over the entire world. Long ago, however, with the advent of religion, a group of magi calling themselves the Circle arose. They laid down the first solid set of laws which they felt reality should be governed by. What motivated them, none remember. Perhaps they felt the nature of the world too chaotic. Regardless, they split.the world into the mundane world, Thedas of today, and the magical one, known as the fade. The barrier dividing these worlds came to be known as the Veil.”

“Once there were magi the world over, now only a scarce few are born with their minds connected to the fade. An anomaly in the eyes of the Circle, which exists till this day.”

“Which brings us to these rifts. Tears in the veil, opening a path to the Fade. And demons. Denizens of the fade, utterly confused by the nigh immutable nature of the real world, go into a mad frenzy and attack anything they see.”

“Which brings us to this terminal. This is one of several terminals across Thedas, one in each country. They are connected to the reality engine, a satellite that maintains the veil. And before you ask, yes, mages had already developed satellites back then. It was the mundanes who took this long to catch up. Regardless, the veil is maintained by these terminals. It wouldn't be far off to say they maintain the fabric of reality itself.”

“Magic is anathema to reality. Magical use can warp the veil and tear open rifts. So can disrupting the code. This is why magical practitioners remain secretive. Even now, two warring factions seek to cure this problem in their own way.”

“The Circle seeks a way to sever every mage from the fade. They did come up with a solution, tranquility, but it was an imperfect one. So they seek another. Meanwhile, we are called Apotheosis. We seek to awaken the mundanes to their magic once more. Our goals collide, so we are at war.”

“Apotheosis began with seven Tevene mages introducing a bit of foreign code to the reality engine. Let us call it the Taint. This was a mistake. The code seemed to take on a life of it's own. At intervals that may even span centuries, it would override the reality engine and manifest in the physical world as the dragon you just saw. The Archdemon. There are seven layers to this code. Four have already been destroyed. This is the fifth. It is coming soon. Then all mages, regardless of faction, will have to combat it, for the Taint is anathema to all life.”

Alistair's head was beginning to throb. “And this thing on my wrist, what was that?”

“An eternity key, a rare magic that lapsed the defenses of this terminal. But where did you get that anyway?”

“Morrigan… my colleague, gave it to me when she healed me.”

“I have heard of this woman… she aims to expedite the Archdemon's attack, to gain access to the source code that was used to unleash the Taint in the first place. She is unaligned with any faction. I don't know what her endgame is, however.” Felix mused. “But congratulations, detective. You at least have your culprit. An eternity key can only be created with the lifeforce of several mages.”

“You mean Morrigan..” Alistair rubbed his brow to ease the ache. “Just for a piece of code-"

“Just a piece of code, detective? This could be a weapon of mass destruction, or one of salvation. I do not know how she plans to use it, but she will not have it. And you… you may leave. Through the door this time, if you will.”

“You aren't going to kill me?”

Felix turned his back to him and did not reply.

Alistair took the elevator, 80 stories down. He looked up at the building, his head abuzz with confusion and anticipation. His phone rang. It was Cullen, his colleague.

“You have to go underground! Now! Whatever this is, be very careful!”

“What? I-" Alistair furrowed his brow at the abruptness of the call. He switched to a news streaming site.

A doctored video. Of himself. Going on a rampage through a cafe with his revolver. He was wanted for murder, and possible criminal insanity. He looked up at the tower and cursed. If these people had this much influence… No, he had come too far to turn back. He would see this through, one way or the other.


	2. Chapter 2

Alistair Theirin walked down a waterlogged alleyway in Denerim to reach his apartment from the building he had just been evicted from. All the while, he could feel eyes on the back of his neck. Perhaps he was merely paranoid at the blow his system of beliefs had taken recently. Jumping at every shadow did not suit a man like him.

Or perhaps it was the three men in white jumpsuits who literally walked out of the shadows to surround him.

Alistair took up a defensive posture, although instinct and logic told him it was useless. He had watched Felix Amell turn his sidearm to slop with a glance. These men were mages too, he was certain. But they held up their arms in a pacifying gesture.

“Detective Alistair Theirin. We are the Circle. We mean you no harm.”

“Yes, well, pardon me if I tend on the disbelieving side.”

“Your caution is understandable given the circumstances of the past few hours. It is, however, unnecessary. If we meant to attack, we would have done so. We merely wish to make a proposition. Our leaders would like to speak to you, but only if you consent. Consider this a gesture of our goodwill.”

Alistair noticed then, that he could not, for all that he might concentrate, make out the facial features of the three men. They were not necessarily obscured, but he could not imprint them onto his memory for lal his efforts. Such as a passerby he would not spare a second glance to, during a busy day.

“You obscure yourselves from me, yet expect me to take you for your word?”

“It is the only option left to you. Truth be told, you have come too far to back out now, haven't you, detective? Can you truly afford to stand back and watch as reality itself unravels around you?”

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“There will be no more conversing in this dank alley. If you wish to know the truth, say the word.”

Alistair's instincts of his time as a detective warred with those of self preservation. Curiosity ultimately won over.

“Take me where you will, then.”

And at a snap of one of the men's fingers, there they were. Wherever “there” was.

It was a spherical, brightly lit room painted pure white, with a steel center table. A woman with grey hair, but a face that was beautiful, even with age, sat at one end, in a black suit, hair fitted into a neat bun. A symbol of the Chantry in the form of a pendant adorned the necklace she wore.

“Huh, didn't know you mages believed in religion.”

The woman looked at Alistair with steely eyes. “We created your religion, boy. Have a seat.”

Alistair dragged back a seat and settled down. “Next you’ll be telling me you're Andraste.” He quirked a brow at the older woman.

“Not actually Andraste, no. Merely a descendant. You may call me Justinia.” She rose, her voice brisk and businesslike. “But I have not brought you here to chat about religion. This is about Apotheosis. More accurately, it's leader. Felix Amell.”

“What about him?”

“Has he already told you about how our organisations lie opposed to each other?”

“Something about your Circle wanting to destroy magic, and them wanting to distribute it. I got the gist of it.”

“And how would you view this conflict resolved?”

“I have no idea about any of this. I’m just some guy who was unlucky enough to have stumbled into this mess.”

“Your stumbling into this mess is the one chink in a seemingly invincible enemy’s armour Alistair.”

Justinia paced the room. “For centuries, the Circle was the dominant power in Thedas, and Apotheosis little more than a collection of troublesome hedge mages and witch doctors. They could be dealt with easily enough.”

“Then Felix Amell entered the picture. He was.the one who united them into a single formidable organisation capable of keeping the Circle in a stalemate. Now he means to tip the scales.”

“I assume you saw the Archdemon as well? A stray bit of code that spreads across the terminals over Thedas and tears the Veil asunder. The bane of reality itself.”

Alistair felt he had to chime in. “Why are you at war with them anyway? Why be so opposed to the distribution of magic among the populace?”

The woman fixed him with a piercing glance. “Imagine if you will, a world where every thought becomes reality. I wish I could fly, and there you are floating in the air. I wish I had something to eat, and now you have food in your grasp.”

“That doesn't sound bad at all…” Alistair objected, but the woman carried on, ignoring him.

“Now imagine a flash of anger at some person who inconvenienced you in some minor way, and them igniting and turning into ash just by that thought. Imagine war and nations being torn apart by a thought.”

Alistair sat silent. Justinia continued. “Does it still seem an appealing prospect?”

“Now, as I was saying, the moment the doctored tape of you going on a rampage through some establishment hit the news, we had our engineers reverse trace it to Felix. Obviously, he chose not to kill you for some reason, and instead, made it so no one would take your fairy stories seriously. But doing so, he left a chink in his armour. One we mean to exploit.”

“How would that work?”

“Felix Amell means to take the essence of the Archdemon within himself to attain godhood. With that power in his hands, he will tear the veil asunder. This cannot be allowed to happen.”

“Luckily, there are very few places where such a ritual can take place.” She spread out a map in front of him. “These are the locations of magical ley lines running all throughout Thedas. Places where the veil runs the thinnest. The ritual will likely take place at such a location. We need you to ascertain the likeliest spot.”

“Why me?”

“You breached Amell's inner sanctum and he chose not to kill you. That must mean something. You are the only one here who actually knows the man, even having gone so far as to slip into a terminal under the jurisdiction of Apotheosis, a feat none of our own have managed to replicate. You are the only one we can trust for such a job.”

Alistair took a glance at the map. This far outstripped his definition of ‘very few’ places. The ley lines were scattered over Denerim like a cobweb. Then something clicked in his head. A television broadcast. Something about art.

“This location here! That's somewhere a crop circle caught his attention. He said art could be found at the unlikeliest places.”

Justinia hummed thoughtfully. “It is true that crop circles have been used by mages as a means of broadcasting information for a while, but there are so many hoaxes nowadays, we never thought to give it much credence. But it does seem our best lead.”

She straightened. “Follow me. It’s time to show you humanity's last hope, Mr. Theirin.”

She led Alistair to a window, where the sight took his breath away. “Where are we?”

He could see the ultramarine curvature of the earth against the blackness, dotted with white. A massive satellite, shaped as a cannon, with the tip facing downwards.

“We are beyond the atmosphere, Mr. Theirin. What you see before you is the disintegration ray, the only weapon capable of reliably erasing a mage with the power of an Archdemon. Humanity's last hope, as it were. It was used in the fourth Blight centuries ago. Since then, the Circle has used it as a nuclear deterrent to keep Apotheosis from sweeping all over Thedas. We will use it to destroy Felix Amell. We must stop him, for humanity.”

***

“What have you done?”

Alistair tossed in his sleep, in his Circle assigned safehouse, as the voice hummed in his ear. 

“Morrigan?”

“You absolute fool. One task, you had one task, and you failed!” The venom in her voice was palpable.

“If you mean stopping Felix, we are already on it. Although why you care, I have no idea.”

This time her voice literally hissed at him. He had not thought it possible for her to hate him more than she already did, but apparently it was.

“You have achieved nothing. The end draws close.” 

And she cut their link.

***

It had been a week. It was finally time. Morrigan arrived at the location where the ritual was to take place. She would stop Felix Amell from taking the Archdemon within himself by any means necessary.

And there he was. Donning a plain white shirt and trousers, hair tied behind in a band, seemingly as unassuming as it was possible for him to look.

“Hello Morrigan. How unexpected to see you here.”

“You know why I am here.”

“I do.”

“I thought I couldn't protect you from your own foolishness, Amell. But this, I have to do. I cannot let you proceed with this plan of yours.”

“I know.”

“I shall break every bone in your body if I have to. But I shall not let you go through with this.”

At this, Felix's face remained expressionless but his eyes grew frosty.

“You cannot. Stand aside.”

Morrigan merely shook her head.

“Then so be it.”

And she attacked.

Her speed was devastating, a blur to the naked eye. Felix covered himself in a pale blue aura and moved out of the way of the charge. He shot a blast of flame at her.

She disappeared in a puff of dark fog, and a drake, it's hide untouched by flame, charged into his side. At the last moment, he was barely able to coat his torso in a layer of stone. The blow still rattled him down to the bone. He coughed out a glob of blood.

Another puff, and a lion was upon him. He whispered, “Petrify.” and there was suddenly a collar of stone around its neck, weighing it down, dragging it to the ground. Another puff, and she reappeared.

“Are you holding back for my sake, Amell? You know the time for sentimentality is past.” 

His expression merely grew ever colder.

A roar, and she was on him again, a panther, fast, impossible to avoid. He merely shrouded himself with the Veil, phasing his body into the Fade, and she slipped through him. He turned, lightning dancing from his fingertips. It tore apart a boulder where she had been, and she had already taken to the air, a vampire bat, impossibly fast. In midair, she writhed, now a cobra, and spat a stream of venomous saliva, straight for his eyes. The toxin would enter his bloodstream, paralyzing him.

The venom never met its mark as Felix let out a repulsion field that blew the spit and serpent away. She reappeared again.

“Please… you don't have to do this.”

A serene smile touched his face this time. “We both know that isn't true.

She snarled at him. “Fool! I will not allow it!”

She weaved around spikes of frost that had erupted where she stood, a bobcat aimed straight for his collarbone. The blow connected with a crunch. She reappeared again, lightheaded. Felix’s smile hadn't faded, even as blood ruined his pristine white collar.

“I knew I could not keep you from hitting me with all your speed. I prepared for your intervention before hand. My blood was treated to be anaesthetic, down to it's fumes. You will not move for a while now.”

Morrigan merely fell to her knees, helpless. “Please… I love you..” Her voice cracked.

“And I love you. But the die is cast.” And saying so, he stood at the center of the Circle.

A dark aura surrounded him, and his veins grew black, as he assimilated the taint within himself. The engine of a heavy motorbike roared nearby, and Alistair walked up to Felix.

“I saw it all. Felix, what kind of a man are you? What kind of godhood could be worth doing… this, to the woman who professes to love you? Is this what your cause is?” He snarled at him. 

“Fool!” Morrigan spat acid, but to Alistair's surprise, it was directed at him, and not Felix. “You think this is about godhood? You are a bigger fool than I thought!”

Alistair's confusion was writ large on his face before Felix's laugh broke out.

“No Taint has been defeated without cost, Alistair. The only way to destroy the Archdemon is for a mage to isolate the foreign code from the Veil and assimilate it within his body. But the mage does not survive the process.”

Alistair blinked. “But.. the Circle…”

“-were misled by my predecessors to deal the ultimate blow in the millenia long war between our two factions. A game for the centuries.” Felix looked skyward, as cracks began to appear across his skin.

“In reality, the Taint would devour the Veil, then magic as a whole. That is the reason I told you it was anathema to all life. But the Circle, in their fear, have already mobilised their greatest weapon to deal with a threat comparable to a god, haven't they?”

Alistair couldn't find his voice, so Felix spoke again. “Apotheosis had been deterred by the existence of that weapon for too long. We could.never locate it because of how well it was protected by the Circle. But in their fear, they have abandoned caution. It shall be their undoing.” More and more cracks appeared across his face, like dry pottery.

“And that is why I allowed you to breach the inner sanctum to the terminal, Alistair. You were the bait to lure them out.”

Alistair looked up to the sky to the descending satellite, weapon tip pointed downwards. Before it's descent, it was shot out of the sky by flying disks that seemed to materialise out of thin air. The glow from the explosion lit up the horizon, as debris rained around them.

“In war, victory.”

Those were Felix Amell's final words, before he disintegrated.

***

It had been a month since the incident. The explosion had been attributed to a meteor strike. No debris from the satellite had been found. Morrigan had disappeared without a trace. The investigation into the murders was still ongoing, but Alistair doubted.anything would ever be found. The video had been proven to be doctored, and Alistair had since rejoined service.

He drove home one evening, looking to the apartment where Felix Amell had once resided. Noone in the entire area had any idea such a man had ever existed. No records of his existence were to be found. 

But Alistair knew better. He knew a war boiled between two major factions behind the scenes of reality itself. And one day, it would spill over into their world. But not today. Alistair threw back his head and relaxed.


End file.
